


Victorian Attitudes

by Lillipad



Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8567881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillipad/pseuds/Lillipad
Summary: Hatano starts to avoid Jitsui like he's the black plague.
And Jitsui won't stand for it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon on tumblr who requested a steampunk au with JitsuHata/HataJitsu~
> 
> For references: this isn’t specifically steampunk, but this assassins creed [screenshot](http://steampunkjournal.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/assassins_creed_victory.jpg) is close to what I imagined what a steampunk city looks like, except, instead of London, imagine late 1800's/early 1900's Tokyo. And [this](http://moodyhues.tumblr.com/post/151197272505/make-me-choose-steampunk-or-cybergoth-more-here) is the overall aesthetic I was going for.
> 
> In case anybody gets confused: I de-aged Oikawa so he’s in his late teens or so.

The mission is clear: an information broker stole the sixth generation aether core blueprints from the highly secured science division of the military, and is set to meet a renegade spy to sell it for safe passage out of the country. They’ve been assigned to locate the meeting place, and using any means possible, steal the blueprints back and ascertain the identity of the traitorous spy.

Pinpointing the rendezvous area is near effortless. Spying on the information broker leads them to a blue-blooded inventor’s banquet. In fact, the dealer stands out as if he has nothing to hide. He goes to lavish parties, shows off his new, if impractical, inventions, and talks animatedly to the upper class as if he’s had a place among them for the majority of his life. Not that Hatano is complaining. It just makes the job that much easier.

Hatano stands at the edge of the crowd. The gala is in full swing with people dancing, talking, and the automatas skillfully playing the instruments as any human could. But Hatano only has eyes for the fifty-year-old broker who goes by the name of Jeffery Morgan, and who’s been rumored to prefer the company of adolescent boys. Hatano is almost too old but he looks young enough to pass, and most definitely passes in make-up.

Looking into Morgan’s past lovers, Hatano noticed that he has specific tastes and dressed accordingly. As a result, Hatano is wearing a frilly suit and a pair of knee-high lace-up embroidered boots with heels, over which he is wearing a short high-collared cape. His accessories include a lot of jewelry and a pork-pie hat. The whole ensemble is coordinated in light brown, dark green, and gold.

It’s such a nuisance that the man has a taste for high-end rich brats because Hatano’s drawing way too much attention from the other guests. He can make polite small talks just fine; it’s the invitations to dance that’s harder to avoid. Some of these ladies, and a few men, are persistent. Hatano’s rejections almost means nothing to them. There’s no upside to this, especially when Jitsui had caught him leaving the dressing room earlier today.

Hatano had scowled, and pinched Jitsui’s cheeks before he could have a chance to tease him. “Shut your face.”

Jitsui’s hands hovered over his before gently prying them away. “But I didn’t say anything.” his eyes, though, roamed over Hatano’s attire, appraising him.

“Well, now you are,” Hatano had said and turned away from him before Jitsui could say anything else or see the hidden pink hue spreading across his cheeks.

It’s not like Jitsui wouldn’t have seen him either way since he’s been assigned to this mission as well, but it would’ve been in a professional setting or from a distance or both. That way Hatano could still avoid Jitsui without raising any eyebrows.

“Oh, tiny kitten,” one of the patrons grabs a fraction of his attention as he eyes Morgan dancing with a young woman in the middle of the ballroom. “Don’t space out on me. I’m not that boring am I?” Was that man talking about something? Oh, right, he was bragging about how he’s the heir of the company who made this very airship they’re flying on now.

“No, of course not.” Hatano discretely swallows his irritation. This one’s been particularly relentless. Hatano’s rejected him three times already.

“Haha, but kitten, you’ve barely spared me a glance. Am I too hideous to look at as well?”

It’s true. About not sparing him a glance part. It’s not like he cares. Hatano takes a deep breath through his nose and turns his head towards the gentleman, whose name is probably Oikawa or something similar if Hatano cared a little more to remember. He isn’t really a man, but a boy who probably just became legal. He has a clean-shaven, handsome face adorned with a monocle on his left eye. Well, at least he isn’t ugly, which doesn’t amount to much.

He knows he shouldn’t complain. No doubt Jitsui is having a harder time than him. He’s seen, between intervals of scanning the area, that Jitsui’s been surrounded with admirers since he arrived. But still.

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Hatano lies in a tone laced with false guilt. “I’ve been antsy because I haven’t seen my date all evening.”

“Oh, how terrible,” Oikawa says, “to leave a lovely thing like you waiting all alone. I’ll keep you company until they show up―” Great―“Or better yet, if dancing isn’t something you’re interested in, there’s a lounge down the hall, we could have a cup of wine while we wait for your courter.” He wraps an arm around Hatano’s waist and pulls him close, all the while Hatano frowns, almost bored, as a long row of excuses are at the tip of his tongue.

“Thanks for the offer,” a voice speaks up behind Hatano. It takes all of his training not to tense up. “But I’ve arrived.” Jitsui embraces Hatano from behind and pulls him away from Oikawa’s grip. He rests his chin on Hatano’s shoulder. Judging from the way Oikawa’s face pales several shades lighter, Jitsui likely has a menacing smile stretched across his lips.

Either way, Hatano plays along and leans back, feeling Jitsui’s watch pendant and narrow belts press against him. He pretends to relax in the presence of his so-called date.

“Ah, but kitten and I were about to―”

“Not anymore,” Jitsui lowers his voice, smile still in place. Oikawa almost looks like he’s about to protest, but Jitsui interrupts him in a tone that tolerates no argument. “Leave.”

And finally, he relents and leaves them be, but not after he gives a longing glance at Hatano, who merely turns his head to kiss Jitsui’s cheek.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Hatano grumbles and crosses his arms. “I had the situation handled.”

Jitsui hums in agreement. “I know, but I couldn’t help myself.”

Hatano furrows his eyebrows and turns around in his embrace, hoping to remove himself, but Jitsui tightens his grip once they’re face to face. Hatano realizes his mistake too late, and while he could easily dislodge his grasp, he doesn’t want to make a scene. He places his hands on Jitsui’s shoulders, neither to push him away or pull him closer, but it voices his displeasure that almost seems like a loving gesture to an outsider’s point of view.

“What are you doing?” Hatano asks, unable to meet Jitsui’s eyes. His line of sight catches a glimpse of their target mingling with the elites by the refreshment tables.

“Would you like to dance?” Jitsui asks as an answer, almost absently.

Hatano is practically flushed against Jitsui and he can’t stand it any longer. Not without wanting to be closer and closer―“Our target―”

“Isn’t going anywhere.” Jitsui presses their foreheads together, making eye contact for the first time this evening. “He’s going to be stuck there for awhile,” he continues with a devious smile. Despite his discomfort, Hatano is mildly curious about what he did to Morgan.

Jitsui leads him to the dance floor where they’re lost among the waltzing masses. He shifts their positions a bit until his hand is on Hatano’s waist and the other holds Hatano’s hand, and vice versa. The music evolves into smooth and light tones where it had been previously upbeat and full of life.

It’s silent between them while they sway along with the melody, and Hatano takes a moment to distract himself from his fluttering heart. The goggles attached to Jitsui’s bowler hat is a good distraction. It reminds Hatano how often Jitsui wears those goggles when he’s tinkering or repairing their well-worn appliances. Or when he wears them any time he needs them for a mission like that one instance where he defused a bomb at a steam expo and saved thousands of lives without any of them knowing they were in danger. And Jitsui’s simple, but elegant waistcoat matches his personality. Quiet, polite, and honorable he may appear, but there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s hiding an airgun underneath, like how his sadistic tendencies are well-hidden.

His eyes continues to wander in a daydream, and accidentally catches Jitsui’s gaze. The way he’s looking at Hatano, so affectionate and warm, makes his heart hammer loudly like it’s competing against the sounds of music and chatter.

_Ugh, this is something straight out of Jitsui’s shoujo mangas_ , Hatano reflects.

But it’s gone in an instant like he knows he got caught, and Hatano would’ve thought he’d imagine it, but his flushed skin and heart pounding chest says otherwise. In the back of his mind, he files away the horrifying realization of the tremendous effect Jitsui has on him.

“Do you hate me?” the question hits Hatano out of left field, so fast and hard, that it momentarily leaves him speechless. Jitsui, that bastard, looks amused at his reaction. Still, Jitsui leads him in the dance without a faulty step, despite Hatano’s lack of trying for less than a beat.

“Wha―of course not,” he says.

“Then, why are you avoiding me?”

He decides to bite the bullet. “I want to kiss you.”

The song ends, and another quickly picks up, more somber than the last, but this one is more brisk like the sound of pouring rain. Jitsui’s steps unfalter.

He blinks, but remains skeptical. “Kiss me? Is it such a bad thing that you’d avoid me like the plague?”

Hatano laughs. “Might be.” he leans closer and rests his head on Jitsui’s shoulder. “I’ve never been in love.”

He breaks their waltz, and encircles his arms around Jitsui in a tight hug, nuzzling his face in the curve of Jitsui’s neck, uncaring that they’re getting in the way of the other dancers. “See you.”

In the spy world, love distracts you. And so does rejection.

###

After breaking away from Jitsui, Hatano makes a beeline towards Morgan.

“Busy night?” Hatano says as he sidles up besides him.

“Unfortunately so, lad.” he taps his finger against his chin. “I’m not sure how I got saddled with all this attention. Tiresome folk they are.”

_Jitsui, how did you do it_ , Hatano inwardly chuckles. “No need to worry about that now, right?”

“Hmm, who knows,” Morgan surveys him suspiciously.

“Aw, you don’t have to worry about me,” Hatano says in a light and airy voice. “I bet I’m ten times more fun than these boring old geezers.” he brushes his fingers across Morgan’s arm.

“You’re adorable,” he says, “I’ll give you that much.”

Hatano almost frowns. He’s not having any effect on this guy. “I can be more than adorable.”

“Sure you can,” he says placatingly.

He’s teasing him. Is he not his type? Did he have his research wrong? Whatever the case, he’s not willing to give up. Hatano batted his eyelashes. “Let me show you.” he gently grabs Morgan’s hand between both of his. “I promise you’ll have a good time.”

“Aren’t you a persistent one, child,” he chides. “It’s not a good quality to have. On other people, at least. It’s great on me, though.”

Hatano tightens his hold. “What―”

“Oh, dear kitten, what a surprise to see you without your date.” Hatano’s heart sinks a little, and he releases his hand. That annoying Oikawa is back. “Where did he go off to? Ah, but I see he didn’t leave you without company this time.”

Hatano doesn’t hide his irritation as he thinks about his options.

“Oikawa, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” Morgan speaks up.

“Mr. Jeffery Morgan! What a surprise to see you,” he says as if he thought he’d never see him alive again, but not in a it’s-good-to-see-you-again way, and more like, I-thought-I’d-seen-the-last-of-you kind of way. Interesting.

“Surprised? I’m sure you meant disappointed.” Morgan grins. Hatano takes the opportunity of small talk between them to edge behind Morgan. He could turn this weird confrontation into his favor.

As they’re talking, Hatano briefly runs his fingers through any of Morgan’s pockets he can reach. The blueprints must be on his person if the exchange is to happen at eleven minutes to twelve o’ clock. Which would actually be ten minutes from now.

“Off with you then,” he says with a fake smile. “I’m trying to talk with my new friend here.”

“Really now? Still chasing after boys I see. Never understood the taste myself.” Morgan snorts. Hatano’s eyes widen, but he keeps his cool. “Your new friend doesn’t seem very fond of you.” he glances at Hatano, who’s behind him, clutching at Morgan’s trench coat as if he’s a frightened child.

Noticing that he has their attention, he immediately lets go and steps back. Unfortunately, he comes up with nothing but a discarded candy wrapper. He discretely shoves it up his sleeve. Ugh, gross. This won’t do. He needs to get back to Jitsui. They need to regroup. The information they have is wrong, or at least, not all accurate. Their sources were unreliable this time.

“That’s not true, right kitten?” Oikawa leans in to grab Hatano’s forearm, and for a split second, Hatano thinks about his choices. He could go look for Jitsui and tell him what he discovered, or he could collect more information out of this guy if he plays along. And he wouldn’t have to worry about Morgan as Jitsui is already keeping an eye on him, no doubt observing their interaction from afar. Decision made, Hatano lets Oikawa grab him and willingly goes to his side.

“You could never remember any of their names, huh? They’re always kittens to you,” he taunts.

Oikawa scowls at him. “You’re the worst, ex-boss.”

“Ouch, is that supposed to hurt.”

“Uh, I have to go back to my date,” Hatano lies, turning their attention back to him. Ex-boss, huh? This guy’s going to be more useful than he thought. “But he won’t miss me for the next half hour at most.”

Oikawa salaciously grins.

###

Oikawa has him pressed against a beautifully crafted table as he leaves sloppy kisses down his throat. Hatano’s cape, hat, and along with papers and books, are scattered around and below them from Oikawa’s desperate need for action.

Hatano shoves him after giving him a minute to do what he wants. “There’s a couch right there.” he points to it where it sits to the side of the study.

“Well, yes,” he huffs, “but I thought you’d look so beautiful on my future work desk.”

Hatano crosses his arms, and gives him a chilly stare.

“The couch it is.”

Oikawa backs off as Hatano moves around him, and sprawls himself across the couch. Without hesitation, Oikawa settles back into place, hovering above him.

Hatano narrows his eyes. “Why so eager?” he didn’t give him enough time to get comfortable. “Did your friend get your panties into a twist.”

Almost like a trigger, Oikawa slams his fist against the armrest above Hatano’s head. “Let’s not ruin the moment shall we? Forget about him.”

Unfazed, Hatano lightly pecks his lips. “He got you riled up so quickly. What did he do?”

“Nothing. Everything, kitten,” he takes several deep breaths. Hatano’s featherlight kisses calms him down. “I’m not supposed to tell you this but…”

Hatano laps up every word that falls out of his mouth right after. It explains everything. Well, a lot of things. His name isn’t even Jeffery Morgan, Oikawa practically wails, and goes on to say that he was the handsome Igor to Morgan’s mad scientist (Oikawa’s words, not his) for a few years, where he infiltrated several groups to provide the information Morgan would need to hold over their client’s heads. Most of their clients were aristocratic patrons and politicians. Hatano had even recognized that some of them had sons, closeted or otherwise, around the same adolescent age group that Morgan supposedly seemed partial to.

“In your years working with him, he never showed interest in anyone?” Hatano asks nonchalantly, as if he couldn’t care less.

“Women, I suppose,” Oikawa interrupts his long winded monologue to answer. “But his relationships never lasted long. And he’s not the kind for one-night stands. But enough about him…”

Hatano’s suspicions confirmed, he intervenes with another question, “What made you break it off with him?”

Oikawa laughs, harsh, but amused, he says, “sad to say, it was him who broke it off with me. You have to promise not to tell anyone, for you see,” he lowers his voice and drops his mouth close to his ear, “our last gig involved stealing something valuable, and he was going to sell it to a certain someone I didn’t trust and I told him so. I was adamant about it too, and I guess that irritated him because the bastard fired me.”

“Who was he going to sell it too?” Hatano wraps his arms around Oikawa’s neck. His fingers brush against his nape.

Oikawa tsks. “It’s a secret.”

“Aw, you don’t want to tell me?” Hatano runs his hands through Oikawa’s slicked-back hair.

“Not so fast, kitten,” Oikawa untangles Hatano’s arms from him. “I like taking charge.”

He begins to unbutton Hatano’s suit, but he gets so frustrated that he tears it right up to Hatano’s sleeve. Hatano holds back the urge to hit him, but barely. Cocky idiot.

The candy wrapper slips out with the motion and lands on the floor. Hatano almost ignores it but he glances down at it, and sees tiny symbols and connected dots like a graph neatly arranged across the crumpled thin paper. It’s the stolen blueprints.

“Hm? What is that?” Oikawa reaches for it, but his eyes widen when he also realizes what it is.

Hatano reacts first and bashes his head against Oikawa’s. It knocks him out cold and his body falls on him like a limp noodle, except heavier. He’s about to push Oikawa off when his body is pulled off for him instead.

“Nice,” Jitsui says as Oikawa lands with a thud. “Doesn’t even stir.”

“Jitsui, what’re you doing here,” he says, surprised. He sits up, and instinctively looks for any sign of injury on Jitsui, but he sees nothing except that he notices that his goggles are around his neck. “Where’s Morgan?”

“Dead, unfortunately.” he pockets the wrapper. “But I’ve identified the spy.”

His eyes widen. “Are you alright? I mean, what happened?”

“I’ll explain later.” Jitsui pulls Hatano to his feet. “The pilot has issued an emergency landing. We need to be with the passengers when they evacuate.”

“What about Oikawa?” he asks as they head out the door. “He’ll wake soon.”

Jitsui answers by jamming the door, knocking off the doorknob. “It’ll be a while before they find him.”

###

Jitsui is seen as the agency’s unofficial system’s engineer simply because of his vast and overflowing knowledge on the dangerous workings of steam technology.

But it’s not that difficult. The others have basic knowledge of it so it’s not like they need him for small repairs. But upgrades on the other hand… that’s an entirely different story.

He usually gets a pat on the back from Fukumoto whenever he enhances kitchen appliances. Like the time he added a broiler drawer to the oven and an easy keypad interface (he got an extra helping of broiled salmon too).

Or that time he “improved” the shower structure, and now hot water lasts enough for everyone when it’s their turn to shower. Living in a house with nine other men, hot water is used up pretty quickly, leaving none for the late-risers. He got a sleepy hug from a grateful Hatano, who’s usually one of the last ones to get up, for that. But “improved” isn’t the right word so much as he’s been hijacking it from the wealthiest residents in town. Of course he targets a different upscale household every few weeks so said wealthy residents won’t notice their unusually increased water bill.

Most of all, though, when he’s not upgrading the agency’s equipment, or reading, or on missions, or hanging out with Hatano, or staring at Hatano like a lovestruck fool, or making Hatano smile―wait, what was he talking about? There was a point to this.

Oh, right.

Most of all though―when he’s not doing anything else―he’s tinkering with his goggles. Sometimes fixing them because the wirings are off. Sometimes upgrading them with small features to make them easier to use.

They’re useful on missions. Especially now when it seems that a foreign woman has caught Morgan’s eye. It’s different from how Morgan has interacted with the previous women earlier. There’s purpose there.

They head off to the makeshift bar that’s near the front of the ballroom. There’s heavy traffic there, but somehow Morgan manages to get two seats for them.

He feels slightly rotten following them. Isn’t it a tad bit early for the meet up? Hatano just left with that annoyance not three minutes before, and there’s nothing he’d like more than to get back to them.

He sighs through his nose, and does what he needs to do.

Getting away from his newly acquired admirers is almost too easy. People seem to listen readily when he drops his act and takes charge of the situation.

Pulling down his goggles over his eyes, he uses the zoom in feature. He leans against the pillar that’s not too close, but not far enough away that he doesn’t have a nice view of them. He may not be able eavesdrop, but he can certainly read lips.

It takes a couple minutes for the small talk to end. But the conversation isn’t going where Jitsui originally thought.

“You want safe passage out of the country?” she says out of the blue. There’s no lead up to it. Except, possibly the only lead up could be that it’s exactly the hour, minute, and second of the meet-up.

“Ah, yes,” Morgan hesitates, but he answers eventually. “Are you Cerberus?”

“Depends,” she says as the bartender hands them their drinks. “Do you have the blueprints?”

“I do.” he looks away as he fumbles through his pockets. “I could’ve sworn I had it in this pocket…”

Morgan isn’t paying attention, but Jitsui is. He sees Cerberus dropping something in his drink. It dissolves right away.

This isn’t an exchange, he realizes.

“Give me a second,” Morgan says as he gets up. “I must’ve… misplaced it.”

His jaw is clenched as if he’s just caught on that he’s been had.

Cerberus’ eyes widen. She’s panicking by the looks of it. She opens her mouth and closes it as if she can’t come up with a proper response―or find an excuse to make him stay.

“It’s fine,” she manages to say. “As long as you know where it is. Sit and stay. We have urgent business to discuss.”

“Isn’t everything already planned and secure? You have the escape route ready, don’t you?” he says, dismissively. “There’s no need to talk except to exchange each other’s services.”

She gets up and tries to stop him.

Jitsui intervenes. On his way over, he takes a glass out of a passing butler’s tray, and bumps into Morgan, splashing champagne all over his torso. “I’m so sorry, mister.”

“Watch where you’re going brat,” he scorns. “Just because you youngsters think goggles are a fashion statement doesn’t mean you should wear them everywhere if you can’t even see through them. That defeats the purpose of goggles, honestly.”

“I’m so sorry, mister,” he says, meekly. The face recognition software activates. It’s inconvenient that it only works when the person has to be in front of him, but it’s infinitely useful. It’s something he has to revamp later. His lens show that Jeffery Morgan is actually a wanted man from his own country named Lewis Macleod. How enlightening. “Let me make it up to you.”

“No need to worry, child,” Cerberus says kindly as she comes up to them before Morgan could speak. Jitsui couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity. “I’ll take care of it.”

His optics reveal that she’s Cynthia Grane, but there’s nothing notable on her record at all. Except, on closer inspection, she had a recently deceased husband. He clicks on his name.

She hangs onto Morgan as she leads him to the direction of the restrooms. Jitsui follows several steps behind. He quickly glances over the information on her husband. Oh, he used to work for Macleod―

Morgan coughs. It almost seems like it’s an innocent cough, but then Cerberus lets go of him. Backs away even, until she blends in with the crowd. He keeps coughing, but it sounds like he’s having a small fit so it’s understandable that hardly anyone gives him a second glance.

But Jitsui knows in a heartbeat what’s going on. And there’s nothing he can do now.

###

Once they reach the ballroom, Jitsui interlaces their fingers together. _It’s a nice fit_ , Hatano thinks, _and comforting_.

The crowd surrounds all sides, and they try to lose themselves in it, but it’s a bit difficult when the masses are so spread thin. The dance floor is empty and the automatas have been disabled, yet it’s still loud with murmurs, and frantic feet pacing.

They end up pressed against one of the many glass walls that’s designed only for this hall.

Jitsui leans close and whispers into his ear, “Are you alright?”

His breath tickles his ear and it sends pleasant shivers down his spine. When Oikawa did this it elicited no reaction, yet Jitsui has only said three words and Hatano wants to melt. In a good way.

“Fine. What about you?” he asks eagerly.

“You don’t need to worry about me.” he leans closer, invading his personal space as he glances down at his exposed neck―no doubt Oikawa left bruises―before he gazes into his eyes.

Smug bastard. Hatano fights off the urge to punch him and turns his head away, in case he couldn’t entirely prevent his face from blushing. But he feels the heat rush to his cheeks anyway.

“That’s cruel of you,” he says, haughtily.

Jitsui laughs. But’s a weird laugh. Like it’s a mixture of amusement, apprehensiveness and displeasure. “This is cruel? You leaving me after a confession like that is cruel. What am I supposed to do with information like that?”

“Forget about it! Ignore it, whatever.” he tugs his hand free and turns his back on him. “You asked a question and you got an answer. It’s not my fault you didn’t like it.”

He knew he had to deal with the repercussions of confessing. But he had hoped it would be after the mission was over. Like way over. Far into the future where he’d find an excuse not to be caught alone with Jitsui. For as long as his dumb longing heart could take it.

“How awfully shortsighted of you,” Jitsui says. “What if I felt the same?”

“You don’t feel the same,” he says with conviction. Jitsui might want to fuck, but that’s not what he wants. Well, he does, but it’s not the _only_ thing he wants.

“Oh? How do you know?”

Hatano whirls on him, and simultaneously grabs Jitsui’s collar to pull him down to his eye level. “Even if you did, we couldn’t be together in the way I want to. So stop it―” _I don’t want to get my hopes up_ , he means to say―but Jitsui tilts his head a bit, and kisses him.

Hatano pulls away in surprise, but Jitsui holds onto Hatano’s fists in his hands to keep him in place as he chases after his lips and captures them again. His grip is firm and assertive, but neither doubts Hatano’s ability to break away if he wanted to. And Hatano finds himself really not wanting to as he kisses him back.

The airship dips as it gets close to landing, and it causes the guests to trip and sway to one side. There’s shouts of alarm, and many fall to the floor. But Jitsui leisurely grabs onto a nearby, thick curtain with one hand while Hatano wraps his arms around his waist. They never lose their balance as the airship momentarily becomes unstable as it tries to dock at the emergency-marked location on the harbor.

“We can’t be together,” Hatano emphasizes. “We’re spies.”

Jitsui hums. “Exactly. We’re spies, and what do we do best?”

_Deceive._

“And when we’re forced to retire, we’ll still be together no matter what we become next.”

The very idea hits Hatano like a brick. Something he was always afraid to consider outside his dreams. “You want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

Jitsui smiles. “As long as you want to spend yours with me.”

###

“You say your mission is a success, but Jeffery Morgan is dead, and you did not detain Cerberus! You let them evade authorities. Explain.” Col. Mutou grinds out. He’s not physically present, but he’s on an open telephone line, able to speak and hear everything going on in this meeting.

Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki stares at Jitsui and Hatano. Almost like he’s peering into their souls. Hatano pretends it has no effect on him.

Sakuma stands at his side as always, incredulous, but dutifully keeps his mouth shut.

“We met our mission objectives,” Hatano says smugly as he crosses his arms behind his head. “Capturing Morgan alive, as well as Cerberus wasn’t part of our assignment.”

“It was implied,” he shouts.

“Should’ve been more specific,” he says, disinterested in the conversation already.

Before Mutou could go off on him, Jitsui smoothly interrupts, “If you read our reports, you’d know Cerberus is Cynthia Grane. I’ve already assessed that she’s not a professional spy, or a traitor, for that matter so locating and arresting her shouldn’t be a problem for you.

“To that end, we had two tasks: steal the blueprints back and ascertain Cerberus’ identity. Nothing more.”

“At least, you have Oikawa in custody. He’s loaded with information about Morgan’s activities. And we didn’t have to detain him either. Really, you should be grateful you got that much,” Hatano taunts.

“You cheeky brat!”

“That’s enough,” Yuuki cuts in. His deep voice silences the room. Everyone is tense, besides Hatano, who has an impudent smile on his face. “There is nothing left to discuss. What’s done is done.”

He ends the phone line. “Sakuma, you’re dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.”

As soon as the doors close behind Sakuma, heavy silence reigns the atmosphere. It makes both of them uneasy, but they refuse to glance at each other. While Jitsui wears a neutral expression, Hatano continues his brazen attitude.

“Do you need anything else, Lt. Col. Yuuki?”

“Your obedience,” he says, authoritative and strict in a way that they know he does not want another word from either of them.

Hatano inwardly flinches. Jitsui feels the urge to defend him, but prevents himself from acting on it. Only a touch of a frown illustrates his displeasure.

“Whatever is going on between you two,” he says as he begins to work on the paperwork on his desk. As if Hatano and Jitsui aren’t a concern anymore. “You’re spies first. Your loyalty is not to each other.” he briefly eyes them with a sharp look before going back to his work. “Deceive me better than you’re capable of. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.” Jitsui nearly hesitates.

Hatano blinks, bewildered. “Right.”

It feels surreal. Once they walk a couple steps into the hall, they lean on each other, soft sighs bubbling up their throats.

“Did he just approve of our relationship?” Hatano asks in disbelief.

“In his own way, I suppose.” Jitsui muses. Involuntary, he glances down and sees the fading blotches shading Hatano’s neck. “You still have hickeys.”

Hatano self-consciously rubs his neck. “Don’t remind me. Oikawa likes to leave a “brand” on his lovers.”

A surge of annoyance spills over Jitsui’s heart. It’s a rule that no visible marks should be on their skin (unless absolutely necessary), lest they be easily recognizable, since one of their qualities for being chosen was that they effortlessly blended with the crowd. A bothersome rule, but essential, otherwise Jitsui would’ve left his own marks over Oikawa’s ugly ones. They’re an eyesore, really.

Out of nowhere, Hatano pinches his cheeks.

“Why are you pinching mah cheeks?” Jitsui winces as Hatano tries to stretch them as far as he can. Jitsui places his hands on top of Hatano’s, massaging them until Hatano releases his grip and lets them rest on Jitsui’s face, almost in a soothing manner.

“You had a stupid look on your face,” he says. “But you look better now.”

Being this close, Jitsui can’t help glancing down at his lips, but Hatano gives him a stern look. “I don’t suppose a kiss is out of the question?”

“We’re supposed to pretend we’re not together.” he rolls his eyes, but he steps back as he smiles mischievously. “And you’re really bad at it. I’m beginning to think you’re not cut out to be a spy.”

He mock-gasps. “How slanderous of you.” he places a finger on his chin, imitating a thinking pose. “Then may I make a suggestion to prove myself?”

“I don’t know if you can.”

“I bet you I can,” he says. “I propose we put the spotlight on someone else’s relationship.”

“How cruel. I love it already.” his eyes light up. “The others will be too distracted and focused on them that we’ll be able to get away with anything.”

“Almost anything,” Jitsui says. “Pretty sure no upgrades in the world will ever get Fukumoto to forgive us if we did anything in the cafeteria.”

“Right. Got any ideas who our target will be?” There’s Sakuma’s and Miyoshi’s subtle kinship, but riling up Sakuma isn’t as amusing as it used to be. It’s so easy that no one would really bat an eye. “What about Kaminaga and Tazaki?”

“No. Everyone knows they’re sleeping together,” he says. “We need a romance to distract from our own―not whatever they have.”

Hatano’s dumb heart skips a beat when he hears Jitsui admit what they have is a love affair out loud. To hide his reddening face, he spontaneously hugs Jitsui and tucks his head in the crook of his neck. For the most part, Jitsui rolls with it, and pets Hatano’s head.

“I say we target Fukumoto and Odagiri,” Jitsui hums. “They seem to have a chaste relationship.”

“Like they’re on the edge of a courtship, but they’re too focused on their kids.” Hatano chuckles.

“Perfect analogy,” he says. “And you know what else is perfect? Sleep.”

Hatano laughs, subdued and restrained with the sudden weariness of being awake for the last sixteen hours. He’s comfortable. “I’m ready to fall asleep in your arms.”

He’s about to nestle closer when they hear a door down the hall creak open, and instead they break apart at once.

It’s Fukumoto, who greets them as he passes them by on the way to Lt. Col. Yuuki’s office. Jitsui and Hatano nod their heads in acknowledgement, plastering unassuming smiles on their faces. Looking far too innocent for their own good. While Fukumoto immediately becomes suspicious, he leaves them be. Behind his back, they share a secret, yet sleepy, smile. And wicked looks.

**Author's Note:**

> You can check out more of my Joker Game fanfic on my tumblr [eversansa](http://eversansa.tumblr.com/)


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